


A little help?

by Blue_kangaroo



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut, Waycest, highschool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_kangaroo/pseuds/Blue_kangaroo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey's 14, Gerard's 17.  Turns out Mikey doesn't exactly know everything...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little help?

Mikey didn't give a shit.  He'd figured out it wasn't worth it apparently faster than the rest of the world.  He was fourteen now (since two months ago) and really; he was pretty set for this life.  He knew how to drive, more or less, and besides, his brother Gerard could drive him now.  Gerard was old.  Not unbearably old, but still.  Old.  He was seventeen.  They were that perfect pair of loving brothers you see in the movies that were always nice to each other and followed all the rules. Or you know, something like that.  They'd looked out for each other from the beginning and weren't planning on changing that.  Not that life can be planned.  Mikey was also aware of that.  But you get the jist.  They spent their days, besides school, playing D&D, trying not to slice appendages off while messing with Gerard's beloved hobbit sword, listening to proper punk rock that'd do any Jersey punk justice, and just generally being together.  They weren't friendless, thanks to public school and being forced to "socialize", but they didn't have more friends than they wanted.  Basically just Ray and Frank and a couple other guys from school, whose musical preference wasn't shit.  Mikey messed around with a bass his dad had randomly picked up from a pawn shop somewhere and Gerard was learning some songs on a blue Mexico Fender he'd recently taken great pride in beating the shit out of. Purely for the aesthetic of the thing of course.  That seemed to be his brother's favorite word as of late.  What with his art and all.  Mikey drew a bit but preferred to listen to music.  Thus they lived their lives, as separate people, but with generally shared experiences and interests.

Mikey lay on his bed, contemplating life.  Mikey knew lots of things.  He didn't have an ego big enough to believe he knew everything, but he did know stuff.  Like the fact that the way people use the word ego really means id.  But hey, no one gives a shit about that, he thought to himself.  People don't like to be wrong.  He knew that too.  He also knew that swallowing gum probably won't kill you (except like, a couple packs or something), but that sticking metal objects into toasters might.  He'd only done that once but he'd eventually realized his family was never, never letting him live that down. Who knows, he decided, perhaps that was his legacy for life, his one purpose for being here.

Mikey also knew that lying on your bed thinking about your life, especially without Green Day or anything, could drag you into some pretty deep thoughts about shit.  But depth of thought is not despair, and he knew this too.  He decided that maybe he was a little smart.  I mean really, he thought, with what he already knew, he'd do just fine.  If only he could convince his teachers that.  Oh well.  Gerard was surviving high school - so could he. 

Gerard was in his lair, as usual.  He and Mikey had decided that was much, much cooler than the basement or his room, so they'd called it that long enough that their parents had adopted the name.  Besides, with all the clutter and D&D nostalgia, it fit like a glove.  Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.  Gerard's gloves never fit his stupid pinkies.  Worthless metaphors.  He was currently trying to find a pencil.  Not a certain pencil or a special sentimental pencil.  Just a pencil.  Any.  Pencil.  He eventually found one between his nightstand and his bed, under his Star Wars comforter that'd slipped the night before.  Yes.  He was a nerd.  Like his brother (but a little later than him), he'd discovered one of the secrets to living life to the fullest.  No, not the one about sticking things in electrical appliances.  He'd learned not to give even one tiny shit about what people thought of him or his life.  Now don't get the Way brothers wrong: they cared about people.  This was indisputable.  They just didn't care what those people thought of them.

Having at last commandeered a pencil from the depths of his floor, he resumed a drawing he'd begun yesterday.  Not the stereotypical teenage zombies and vampires.  No, to be honest, anything stereotypically "teenager" was rather unsettling for Gerard.  Though, technically, he was a teenager.  Screw your logic, Mr. Spock.  (The universe needs the Doctor anyway) he thought to himself.  It was getting dark outside of the lair's small windows and he continued his drawing, humming along absentmindedly to the Misfits.

Mikey was up in his own room, reading comics stolen from the lair, having abandoned the whole "contemplating life" thing for the time being.  It could wait for another day, what with the fearless ninja turtles waiting (and, potentially, some hot four-colors of Wonder Woman).  He sifted through the pile he'd not-lifted from the lair, glancing through to see how many he'd read before.  Most of them were familiar.  One at the bottom of the stack caught his eye though.  It had a hot looking chick on the cover and he didn't recognize the title or the artist.  Boom.  Roll out the incognito Mikey with the poker face.  He'd really been working hard on that lately, by the way.  Good spy/ninja/punk skill.

Flipping through the new comic as slow as humanly possible, Mikey was more intrigued than he'd intended to be.  The comic drew him in and effectively  mesmerized him into staring at the pages far past the "bedtime" his parents still thought they were enforcing.  He completely zoned out of his surroundings, the Green Day tape having long since come to an unnoticed halt, and was focused entirely on the skillfully sketched pages before him.  This shit was good.  As he turned another page, he came to the realization he was about to drool on the corners.  Gerard would be pissed if he fucked it up, he thought.  His second thought was to wonder why the hell he hadn't noticed he was practically drooling over the comic for who knows how long.  He checked the time. It was only eleven. Only. His parents would not be pleased with their little baby, he laughed to himself.  It's not like they'd ever even know he's usually always up past now anyway.  He went back to his treasure.  The heroine of the current scene was breathtaking.  The artist had done her up with dark hair and some sweet cleavage, and it appeared that she was about to be occupied with seducing one of the probably-good guys.  If Mikey's brain had been bothering to function he would've noticed he might currently be able to defeat gravity and stick himself to the ceiling.  This was new.  This was fun.  Did Gerard have more of these somewhere?  Why'd he never let Mikey read them?

Twenty minutes later Mikey'd finished the comic and was thoroughly excited.  He'd have to make sure he had access to more of these in the future, he decided, flipping off the light and flopping onto his bed.  He pulled off his pajama bottoms in the dark (it was midsummer he really didn't see a reason for them) and rolled onto his side in his customary sleeping position.

Then he stopped cold. 

His dick hurt.  Like, fucking ached.  What the hell was this?  He rolled onto his back and flipped the light back on, scooting to lean on his headrest.  His boxers were tight.  Really tight.  The fuck?  He stared for a few moments before gingerly deciding to do the most stupid thing possible and poked the strange new bulge.  He gasped and put an end to his venture.

Remember that one time in Star Wars where Luke is handed the lightsaber for the first time - and he goes and sticks his face in it?  Yeah.

Mikey was beyond confused.  His lengthy vocabulary couldn't even decide on a word for his confusion.  He was beshittered.  He thought maybe that should be a word.  All his previous relative-smartness was lost on this new problem.  What was he supposed to do?  Was something wrong with him?!  He decided his only solution was to ask Gerard.  His parents were asleep, as well he should be, not that he was about to ask them about his dick at any fucking time of day.  That'd be more embarrassing than the toaster thing.

He pulled his pajama bottoms back on slowly, being careful not to let the waistband snap around his hips too low, and opened his bedroom door quietly.  He'd snuck down to Gerard's room enough over the years to have achieved advanced stealth mode, thank goodness.  Checking the hallway just in case, he crept down the stairs to the lair.  Gerard was still up of course.  They'd finally decided he was in charge of his own sleep pattern, at any rate.  Mikey could hear Nervous Breakdown coming through the door.  What a coincidence.  He pushed it open softly and saw Gerard sitting on his bed, reading yet another comic.  Except this one was just a Batman one.

"Gee?"  He asked, closing the door behind him.  Gerard didn't like when people left his door open.  "Hey Mikes, what's up?"  Gerard asked, glancing up with a quick smile.  He noticed the look on his brother's face and frowned.  "Is everything okay?"  Mikey hesitated.

Gerard put batman aside and patted his bed as Nervous Breakdown switched to more Black Flag.  He frowned again as Mikey hesitated before plopping down beside him.

"What's wrong Mikes?  Are you okay?"  He asked, now genuinely concerned.  Mikey furrowed his brows and shook his head in bewilderment.  "I-I don't know... I don't think so?"  Gerard tried to think of anything that could've possibly happened between dinner and now and couldn't think of anything.  "What is it?"

Mikey stared at the floor with his cheeks turning scarlet before he finally glanced up at his brother.  How the hell was he supposed to say it?!   He panicked before just spewing the first words he could think of.

"My dick really fucking hurts and I didn't hit it on anything and my boxers are too fucking tight and it hurt when I poked them and I don't know what the hell's wrong with me and do I need to go to the doctor because I really don't want to die yet?!"

Gerard's lips formed a sideways smile as he tried and succeeded in not laughing at his poor younger brother.  The dude thought he might die and was about to shit himself over a boner.  He figured this was definitely his first.  Being the good older brother he was, he teased him a little anyway.  "What exactly were you doing before you noticed?"  He smirked.

"I- Uh... I got a couple comics from down here when I got back from school earlier and I'd already read most of them but I was reading a really fucking good one that was at the bottom of the stack... that's all I did since dinner... ?"

Gerard chuckled this time.  "Well... Mikey... the good news is you're not dying and you don't need to see a doctor..." he started.  "The other news is you've got a boner and don't know how to deal with it." he said, glancing down at his brother's pants.  Yep. He most fucking definitely was hard.  

Mikey was relieved that he wasn't dying and all, but what the hell was he supposed to do about the boner part?  "Um... okay, well not dying's good... what the fuck do I do about this then?  Is this supposed to happen?  Do you get boners?"

Gerard really didn't approve of the fact that their school didn't bother to teach sex ed until sophomore year. But at least it was him having to do it instead of some teacher paid to sit there with a laser pointer.  He pursed his lips and decided he'd better make it short.

"You know the jist of the birds and the bees thing, right?"  He asked hopefully.  
Thankfully, Mikey nodded.  "Okay well you're gonna get a boner any time you've been really focusing on a hot chick or something sexually appealing to you, even if it's just a drawing, and yes it's normal and it happens to me too, and you don't have to, but fixing it's generally better than waiting for it to go away."  Three cheers for the explanatory big brother award.

Mikey nodded slowly and looked up at Gerard again.  "So...  what do I do to fix it exactly?"  He asked, his cheeks still scarlet.  Of all the things he didn't know, this had to top the list.  Gerard scratched the back of his neck and looked back at his brother.  "Um... well, usually holding it loosely and rubbing it up and down and gradually getting faster does the trick...  um...  and spitting in your hand makes the friction uh...  nicer.  I guess?"  He offered.

Mikey still looked confused. Shocker.  "Uh okay...  but like, for how long?  When do I stop?"  He asked.

Gerard sighed.  "Um okay look... um... we're brothers, we've seen each other naked and all that shit... um, it's not gonna go away until you fix it so if you want you can stay down here and I'll tell you how while you do but if you'd rather not then you can just do it in your room and uh yeah..."  Gerard trailed off, taking a much-needed breath.

Mikey wasn't too keen on touching his dick in front of his brother but he decided he was less keen on trying to fix it on his own upstairs and fucking it up.  He pushed up his glasses and shrugged.  "Um, I guess having advice would be better than screwing it up on my own... I mean since it's okay with you?"

Gerard nodded.  "Yeah, don't worry about it.  I wish I'd had a little advice for my first one too."  He reminisced.  "Thanks Gee.  Because it really fucking hurts right now."  Mikey said looking back down at his pants.  "Okay well then first things first you're gonna want to take those off and get comfortable I guess."  Mikey complied and slowly removed the pajama pants again.  His boxers were still tight as fuck.  Gerard moved to the end of the bed off to one side and had Mikey prop himself up in the middle.  "Now what?"  He asked, looking back to Gerard.  "Take your boxers off, it's gonna feel weird but it won't actually hurt, I promise."  Mikey cautiously slid his fingers into his waistband, pulling his boxers down over his thighs.  His dick sprang up toward his stomach and fuck.  That was weird.  He mutters this under his breath and looked back at Gerard, who'd suddenly thought to lock the door just in case and was turning his music up just a little louder.  "Okay... it may be hard but you're gonna have to be quiet."  He told him, sitting back on the end of the bed cross-legged.  Mikey nodded.  "So, you're gonna want to get your hand wet first, then wrap it loosely around the base.  And spread your legs a little so it's more comfortable."  He instructed.  He briefly felt like some kind of perv, but brushed it aside in the realization that no one else was going to take the time to teach the kid.  Spreading his legs a little, Mikey spit into his palm and brought it to his cock, grasping it loosely as he was told.  "Now pump your hand up and down, slowly."  His brother instructed.  Mikey brought his hand up and back down again and winced.  "It hurts."  "Just try it again." Gerard said softly.  Mikey repeated the action but it barely hurt any less.  "It hurts, Gee."  He grimaced.  Gerard sighed.  "Do... do you want me to... I mean only this once... do you um... want some help?"  He asked finally.  Mikey once again decided his brother's help was a better option than screwing it up so after a brief moment he voiced his previous decision.  Gerard nodded and moved closer to him, situating himself between his knees and trying to be close enough without being too close.  Like that made any know is sense.  He glanced up at Mikey, who nodded, before spitting into his own hand and wrapping it carefully around the base.  Mikey gasped as he slowly pulled his hand upward and down again.  "Try to be quiet just in case they could hear, it's a good habit."  He advised.  Mikey nodded again and tried not to hold his breath as Gerard's hand slowly pumped his shaft.  After a moment Gerard deftly swiped his thumb over the tip that was dripping with precome.  Mikey stifled a moan clutched the comforter beneath him.  "Fuck that feels good."  He breathed shakily.  Gerard began gradually pick up the pace until he was pumping him at a decent pace and placed his free hand on one of Mikey's hips to try to keep his involuntary bucking to a minimum.  He pumped faster, swirling his thumb around the tip each time, and Mikey struggled to stay quiet.  As his breathing grew more sporadic Gerard looked up to see his brother's pupils blown.  "Gee, please, faster Gee please f-faster it feelssofucking good."  Mikey gasped as Gerard picked up the pace yet again, pumping him faster as he writhed beneath him.  Mikey gripped the comforter tighter and his knees were wrapped tightly around Gerard's sides.  Gerard sensed he was about to come and pumped him even faster, digging his thumb harshly into the slit as Mikey turned his head to moan into the blanket.  His hips jerked forward as he shook with his orgasm, and he swore he could see stars, legs shaking as his come left warm stripes down his stomach.  

Gerard scooted back and gave him a moment to come down from the high.  Mikey looked absolutely wrecked.  He reached over him and grabbed a few tissues from his nightstand, handing them to his brother as he regained his senses.  Mikey took them and wiped up the mess, noting he'd somehow managed not to hit the Star Wars comforter, and threw them in the trash beside the bed.  Gerard helped him retrieve his boxers and then pulled the blankets back, turning off the light and unlocking the door before climbing in beside his brother.

"Thanks Gee."  Mikey said, hugging his brother from behind.  Gerard smiled into his pillow.  "Night Mikey."

**Author's Note:**

> Was that not adorable.


End file.
